


Trials of courage

by Ashinami



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Horses, Maiar, Saving the World, Surprise Characters - Freeform, Travel, believing in yourself, facing own fears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-10-07 07:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17361935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashinami/pseuds/Ashinami
Summary: Illusion of safety disappeared and Galathil has to face terrible reality. He will have to make a decision to save those he love and take up the hardship of the travel of his life.





	1. Our only hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A story that came to me in the meantime of writing my main series and requests. This time, we have Galathil as a main character. I see very little fics focusing on him so I decided to write one.  
> This story is not binded anyhow to my main series, it's complete AU.

Air in Menegroth was fresh and smelled with flowers. The scent of it was unmistakale and it remained for long, even during winter when no blossoms were blooming. The fact that the city was entirely in the caves never bothered Galathil, all the more that in some places there were vents that allowed the light to come inside. For long centuries it was starlight casting brightness inside the caves. All too well Galathil remembered countless times and moments he spend with Faineth staring up at the sky through those vents, watching stars passing by, creating new constellations. It was slow a slow process, but they spend together with Faineth enough time to see it happen.

Now, there were Sun and Moon. Warm rays during the day got into the caves immediately making the place brighter. Moonlight grew in liking to show itself in the waters – streams and small ponds. It's familiarity made Menegroth feel even more like home.

But right now, for Galathil the place was strangely foreign, as if those were mere moments before his own home will betray him. The air seemed fresh, but he knew better. Though there was no specific scent lingering around, he knew what was happening deeper in the caves.

Galathil wandered through the gardens of the Palace near the apartments that belonged to his family, placed in the higher levels of the city. He hummed quietly to Nimloth, trying to lull her to sleep, but she was restless. She didn't cry or wimbled in his arms, but she had eyes wide open as if vigilant. Nimloth sensed his nervousness, but Galathil couldn't help it.

A plague spread across Doriath. It crawled to the edge of their kingdom and unrelently marched forth, deeper into the woods.

First tidings about this were alarming and those in need were brought to Menegroth immediately. Everyone suspected that it was but a single case, but before their realized, more elves started to fall sick in every corner of the woods. More and more were brought to Menegroth to provide them help and necessary care and soon, the city remained as a single bastion that stood agaist the plague. And in time, Menegroth became a one huge encampment with divided areas.

Galathil didn't know so much about this, but he knew enough. The army was in charge for bringing refugees from the settlements as well as those elves affected by the disease. He had never seen anyone of them, but what he heard was enough. Terrible stuffiness, paleness, body pains with no reason, sudden weakness and fragility – those were only symptoms he knew of. He didn't want to think how worse it can get and undoubtedly, it can be that way as there was yet no cure for the disease.

And there was assumption that it can be passed on. It only doubled the threat and entirely changed situation they had.

Army was divided to those soldiers who left the city to get the refugees and they were stationed on the fields. Other soldiers were delegated to help the Royal Guards in maintaining the city – getting clothes, blankets, food and water to the refugees and watching over that no one will cross restricted areas. It was needed to prevent the disease from spreading. So far it was working.

Infected elves were held on the fields – in the baracks and in the infirmary. Almost all the healers in Menegroth were there working hard to help those in need and trying everything to discover a cure. Queen Melian was there almost all the time as well. Her skills were invaluable, but even with her help there was little progress. Many said that it was no ordinary illness - they said it lurked in the woods, dense like clouds in the sky. It was a doing of Evil, they said, and no wonder that so many succumbed to it.

And what to say more, Galathil worried terribly. For now Faineth and Nimloth were safe, but for how long? And Arvellon and Oropher? Arvellon was relatively safe, he was disposed for duty at the wagons, loading and transporting necessary items that were needed at the time. But Oropher was leaving the city for the refugees. Just as now he was somewhere away. From what Galathil knew, Oropher left to the forest of Brethil, but he couldn't be sure even about this. How many more times Oropher will leave Menegroth before he won't come back? How much more time will pass before Arvellon will be disposed for the same duty?

Galathil sighted trying to calm his racing mind. He couldn't even go there and ask how they were doing. Arvellon came to their apatments quite often so he had not one ocasion to make sure he was alright, but Oropher was stationed in the resticted area where he had no access to and Oropher couldn't leave it. That's how it was and it was now their reality. There was no sign that it will change anyhow in nearest future.

Sudden unrest fell on him as if the storm started to gather over the ocean. It strucked him almost painfully and even Nimloth felt it with her small heart and wailed quietly.

'Hush, my love.' he whispered kissing top of her head, but the signal he just had was too strong to ignore it. He approached a helper who sometimes watched over Nimloth. 'Nemlin, could you take her to Faineth? There is a...I need to go immediately.'

'Of course, my Lord.' she said with warm soft voice that immediately gained hearing of Nimloth and calmed her. She took the elfling from him and slowly started to walk away calming the child in her arms, but Nimloth didn't wail even once.

Galathil for a moment watched them go, but then he turned on his heels and made his way to the lower level of the city. He immediately sensed great commotion, but he couldn't get anything from scraps of conversation he heard on sides. Aura of panic was unmistakable and despite himself, Galathil started to feel it too.

He didn't wander for long, when he noticed a well known persin. It was no one other but Celeborn who talked heatedly to the guards. Not thinking much Galathil approached him and in a moment he was beside his brother.

'What happened?' he asked and Celeborn turned to him with clear stiffness and Galathil all too well recognised grief in his eyes.

'Oropher came back from the forests.' he said and shook his head. 'He is sick. All of them, the refugees he brought, soldiers in his division, all of them are sick.'

Galathil felt as if someone striked him with a mace in head. He swallowed hard, but it didn't help in getting rid of the tightness in his throat. So it happened. Something he was afraid of for all this time.

But Celeborn continued, as if it couldn't be even worse.

'We can't go to him, you know it well. No one can.' Celeborn said. 'I tried to find someone who can tell me how he is, but Egnaspen and Haerdin, even Mablung, they are all out in the forests. There are so many who have to be brough to the city and this number only grows. Soon, they will get even more divisions for this duty and all of them will probably suffer the same fate as Oropher. More and more soldiers are starting to succumb to this disease, no one is safe.' Celeborn shook his head and the next thing he said stucked in his throat as if it couldn't come out. 'And Adar...he is out there organising them. With all their commanders gone, someone is needed to help. Schedules, their patrols...all of it.'

Celeborn's voice dropped quiet at the end, but Galathil all too well heard what he just said. Galadhon took up his duty once more and exposed himself for the greater good. Hardly yesterday, Galathil was speaking to his father and right now he can't be sure when he will be able to do so again.

'How? When?! He said nothing about it!' Galathil said helplessly. Everything was falling apart. Brief illusion of safety fell down like a wall of cards.

'Of course he didn't. He knew we would object.' Celeborn said and crossed arms on chest, his eyes dropped down on the ground. 'But I...I will join him soon. I have to do more than I'm doing now.'

'Are you insane?!' Galathil said, but before he managed to even say something more Celeborn interrupted him.

'It's my responsibility.' he said. 'If we won't do our best, then it's a matter of time before we will all fall for this plague. And there will be no one else to help.' Celeborn embraced Galathil who did the same immediately, but still in shock, as if he was living someone else's dream. 'Probably uncle Erthor and Edwethon will join us as well...but you can't, everyone but you.' Celeborn pulled away from him and cought his face in hands. 'Keep yourself away from all of this, as long as you can. Watch over Faineth and Nimloth, get Arvellon away from this as well. If you have to, leave the city.'

'How can you even suggest it?' Galathil asked angered all of sudden and he throw off Celeborn's hands. 'How can you even sound as if you were saying goodbye?'

'You know as well as I that there is no cure for disease that plagues us.' Celeborn said sounding very tired all of sudden. 'And state of the sick is getting worse and worse. They are not able to help them.'

Galathil understood what it meant, it didn't have to be said aloud. Though Menegroth divided well the healthy form the sick, it was a matter of time before everyone will fall to this ilness. And he knew that right now he was probably saying goodbye to his brother. Something he never did to his father or Oropher.

'Look after your family. And get Arvellon away as well, by force if needed.' Celeborn said before he turned and Galathil helplessly watched him go away. Even in his worst dreams he didn't imagine it to end like this. He didn't image something happening at all. He just wanted to vegetate in this state of half-reality, foolishly believing that everything was alright. In this very moment he was painfully reminded how wrong he was.

Except that it was not the end. It doesn't have to be this way.

He had no intention to run. And he had no intention to leave. Arvellon would never leave his station and abandon his duty. Arradis will never leave Edwethon though they will be separated. And where were they supposed to go? To Ossiriand? To Falas? Low probablity they would manage such a journey. But a one rider...possibility that crossed his mind would be the hardest decision he will make in his life. And probably, their only hope.

And hiding? He could imagine him and Faineth stuck in their apartment for days and days at the same time knowing that it was but a matter of time before they will succumb to their fate. And a lone image of seeing Faineth fighting for every breath, slowly giving up. To see Nimolth-

No. It was a future that couldn't come to pass.

He didn't know for sure from where he got a piece of paper and atrament, his mind already set up a schedule that would make his plan work. He wrote a short message to Faineth, not long as he didn't really know what to say.

Forgive me. I will come back. I love you - it was miserably scribbled, but readable. Without further delay he went straight to the less used entrance to the fields where, nonetheless, the guards were stationed. He demanded entrance and soldiers looked at each other.

'My Lord, you are aware that you won't be able to leave this area once you will enter?' one of them said and Galathil nodded.

'I know.' he said sternly knowing all too well that he had no intention to come back into the city. 'Now let me pass.'

Without saying anything more or blocking the way, the guards stepped aside and Galathil entered resticted area.

The corridor was quite long and at the end of it he sticked to the wall and peered inside to make sure that no one will notice him sneaking in. He thought about going to the infirmary to check on Oropher, but it would take too much time and there was a risk that maybe his father or Celeborn will see him. Besides, he will be of better use to his cousin when he will proceed with what he planned.

He sneaked into the armory and without a problem he found a short cabinet and shelves that belonged to Oropher. Nearby were shelves and cabinets that belonged to his soldiers and some of their equipment was left behind.

Galathil threw off himself his coat and not needed clothes. He managed to find a bag and without thinking he got into the coat and whatever warm clothes he could find. He changed his elegant boots to those more suited for travel and after he had everything more or less prepared, he opened a small cabinet.

For his luck, Oropher decided to travel to the woods in light outfit of a traveler and his armor remained here, in the armory. Not thinking much Galathil started to put it on himself. It was dark like black onyxes and Galathil remembered well the day when Erthor gifted it to Oropher. Those precious, happy memories seemed too far to make them seem real, all the more in the situation he now faced.

Galathil gathered a special belt which he clasped on chest and gathered two swords. It was too bad he had no time to gather his own, he was more used to them, but Oropher's blades were more than formidable and they were made for war. He was sure swords won't let him down and he attached weapons to specially made places on his back and after he managed to do it, he gathered a long bow made of dark brown wood. For a moment he stared at it, surprised that Oropher decided to not take it with himself – his cousin favoured this bow and Galathil saw on his own eyes how Oropher was shooting from this bow. He hoped it will serve him good as well.

He got the bow across his arm and gathered quivers with arrows meant for this kind of bow. He took two that belonged to Oropher, but he believed he also took the ones that belonged to Nelledir and Taranir. After what happened, they won't need them.

He breathed out holding quivers and bag in hand. What he was doing was not thoughtful and decision he had made was rash and almost weighted upon him. But there was no going back now.

The last thing he did before leaving the armory was placing the paper in the cabinet where he got Oropher's armor. Someone will finally find it, just as someone will finally find out that he left the city.

Not looking back he left the armory and went straight to the stables. For his luck, there was no one to see him sneaking around. Galathil thought about taking his own brown Esgal, but his horse was not made for the travel he planned. Besides, he will have to go back to the stables near the Palace and he had no time for that. As he went through the building he looked at the horses he knew quite well, thinking which one he should take, but truly he had only few in mind.

He looked inside one stall and sighted. Hakon was out of the question for taking - he was clearly haggard and tired, after all he came back with Oropher not long ago. Black horse was lying down on hay with eyes half closed. The only other he could take was Bargamo.

Galathil left Hakon and opened another stall. Grey head of Bargamo immediately turned to see who was bothering him, but Galathil threw on side his quivers and bag and approached the horse as he would any other though he heard that Bargamo had mean temperament. He checked if the horse was clean enough and then lead it out of the stall. Bargamo stood on the stable's corridor tall and with head rised high, tail flapping left and right and ears going back in irritation, but Galathil didn't pay attention to horse's moods, handling it patiently.

He decided to get a deep, more cavalry shaped saddle rather than travelling one. He didn't know what he will encounter on his way and he prefered to feel stabile on the back of this hot-headed horse. He got a breastplace and attached it neatly, after this he got quivers and binded them to the saddle, bag as well. And the angry horse was watching him, completly disgruntled.

Leaving the fields was also not hard. Everyone was busy with themselves and with what was happening around to pay attention to a single rider. Galathil got to the main Gate without a problem and demanded to open it.

'My Prince, we have orders from above to not let anyone in and out unless those are divisions leaving or coming back from the forests.' the soldier said a bit apologetically, but Galathil had none of it. He knew those soldiers were doing their job, but he didn't have time for that.

'Is this a direct order from the King or Queen?' he asked awaking in himself authority he rarely used.

'No, but Primus General-'

'My orders are above even those given by General Mablung.' Galathil said sternly. 'Open the Gate.'

Soldier stared at him for a good while fighting his own thoughts, until finally he submitted to Galathil's will and bid the other guards to open one heavy door, enough for a single rider to pass. And Galathil lead Bargamo closer to the opening, but before he was entirely gone he turned to the soldier in sudden wave of guilt.

'Tell them that I gave you no choice.' he said. 'You won't have problems because of me.'

With those words he climbed on the horse's back and Bargamo snorted waiting for his command and too rashly Galathil bid the steed to move into gallop.

Bargamo started out in bolt, sharply like sudden storm, and such pickups were something Galathil was not used to, but the horse carried him lightly and with pleasant pace. They quickly passed the massive stony bridge and rode straight into the forest. Trees looked after them clearly baffled and Galathil send them greetings, but he was focused more on finding the right way. It was already dark and  Galathil didn't leave the city that often to ride through the forest blindly.

He will pass by the forest of Region to the West and towards Amon Rudh. His goal was Falas and the city Eglarest – maybe Círdan in his wisdom will be able to help anyhow. He was as old as Thingol and he remembered the days of old. He was the only elf to whom he could turn for help and Galathil almost prayed that Falas was spared from the disease – if it was not, then they were all doomed.

Galathil frowned then, focusing from his thoughts to the way ahead. He always believed he was a good rider, but Bargamo was hard to lead – easy turns the horse passed by fluently, but tighter arches the steed took very sharply almost not slowing down. And even worse, the steed was gaining only more speed and Galathil decided to stop the horse rather than loose control over it.

Bargamo snorted loudly and folded back ears defying his will, but Galathil sat more surely in the saddle and made sure the horse stopped. In this very moment he was grateful that he decided to take deeper saddle that helped him remain on the back of the horse.

'Ease down, you hot-headed ram!' he said as Bargamo threw its head up snorting once more, indignated that Galathil dared to treat him like this. The horse made few more jumps ahead that were barely a gallop before it finally stopped, but even then Galathil felt Bargamo wriggling beneath him as if the ground was on fire.

He wondered if he had not made a mistake. He could have taken any other horse but Bargamo and yet, here he was – he blindly trusted that Oropher's horse would be perfect for this travel. And it was most likely truth, but, will Galathil prove to be good enough to tame this creature? He never even sat on this horse, few times he saw Oropher riding on Bargamo and only then he had occasion to see the grey horse and its behaviour. But under Oropher, Bargamo presented himself extraordinary, while right now Galathil had to fight so the horse would stop.

The difference was that Oropher performed active duty as a soldier, while Galathil maybe too much time spend on the comfortable sofas in the apartments. He let go lately of his training and condition, and now it was showing.

Galathil patted horse's neck in calming gesture, but Bargamo continued to be in foul mood, throwing head impatiently. He probably took the worst horse he could - Galathil remebered Oropher saying that even he had problems at the beginning with Bargamo and it took a lot of training so the grey horse was finally tracked back on the right way. As always, Galathil threw hiself on the wild sea.

'We have to get along or nothing will come out of it.' Galathil said remaining calm, at the same time very confident. After he made sure he got Bargamo under control only then he bid the horse to move and this time he galloped in more calm pace, but hooves loudly landed on the ground and Bargamo snorted with inscrutable energy as if he wanted to show how angry he was.

Fireflies lighted the way where moonlight couldn't get pass thick layer of leaves. Deers and roes disappeared from sight at the sniff that he was getting closer and the birds were quiet, only a lone owl sounded somewhere around. Only trees provided any comfort and company and Galathil felt that the forest was truly watching over him.

Strong wind passed by the forest, but Galathil felt no shivers. It was not a cold blast that seeded unrest in heart - this one was familiar and it didn't even bend the branches. Unskilled eye could have thought so, but those were the trees that turned on their own towards the wind to hear it clearer.

Bargamo neighted quietly and Galathil didn't have to fight the horse to make it stop. He looked around, vigilant, but the woods were calm, quietly listening and then the second blow of the wind came once more.

_Taur-im-Duinath! Go there!_

It was Melian, her warm yet strong voice was unmistakable and this time it breathed with determination.

Trusting her blindly Galathil turned south and Bargamo didn't need prompting as if the horse as well heard the voice of their Queen.

Galathil left the common ways and roads and turned deep into the forest. Trees stepped aside, showing the way and Bargamo carried him confidently not faltering before any obstacle or steep scarp. And Galathil let the horse handle it, only briefly leading it, mostly keeping himself in the saddle – Oropher trained his horse well.

Sudden change in horse's behaviour was surprising – Bargamo no longer fought him, instead the steed was focused on the way, keenly getting through the woods on its own like a well trained hunting dog.

With Bargamo's fast gallop they crossed river Aros when sun was rising and they left Doriath's territory from the southern side.

As they galloped towards Andram, Galathil looked behind on the forest he was leaving. Trees remained on the other side of the river, but even where he was Galathil felt the ground shivering with their strength.

Closing his eyes Galathil forced himself to turn his eyes back on the road. He was doing it for them – for Faineth and Nimloth. For his father and Celeborn who will walk into their demise on their own will, for Oropher who tried to do everything to help others, for his uncles, for Arvellon, for any other of his family. He couldn't fail and right now he had to focus on his purpose.

Bargamo carried him in calm gallop and Galathil hoped they will reach the Long Wall before the sun will start to set down. If they will be in luck, they will reach Taur-im-Duinath within two days.

And luck was anywhere, but with them. Dark creatures far away in the east of the land of Estolad sniffed up their trial. Galathil slowed down the horse briefly to look closer, but without a need – howling was carried as far as here. Any band of wargs nearby were alarmed about their presence.

And it was not long when Galathil noticed wargs, far away to the west, crossing Sirion and pursuing their trial. They were being hunted.

Galathil swallowed hard taking bow in hand and making sure he had free access to at least two quivers. Images of war he survived raced before his eyes – fire illuminating the night, fear to even make a single step, walls of arrows that pierced through armor and shields. It was so long ago that he almost forgot it was once his reality. And now he will be brutally reminded that he rushed for a travel he was not ready for. It was not his place, it was not who he was – he layed down armor long ago, even the one he had on himself was not his own. And yet he hoped that it will be enough.

'Bargamo, make haste!' he called to the horse and the steed obediently and gladly quickened its pace, scretching neck and pulling head forth in fast gallop, not binded by any bridle.

When was the last time he trained horseback archery? Will his once experience be enough? Was he able to make this stand and survive?

He will, he told himself pushing away all doubts. He was his father's son – Galathil all too well remembered Galadhon's teachings and all the trainings he had with his teachers and with his father as well. And he was a cousin to the General of Doriath – Galathil had Oropher's horse, his armor, weapons and valuable advices in mind.

And he was a Prince of Doriath. This lone thing pledged him to greatness. He was a husband to Faineth and a father to Nimloth – love for them will take him through the highest mountains.

Galathil held a bow more surely and watched over so the horse won't overstrain itself. He awaited the unavoidable clash with clear mind and steadfast heart. He hoped it will be enough.


	2. Malicious forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The worst places are sometimes those with greatest wonders.

Galathil stared into jaws of death and sharp fangs that could tear him to pieces in less than a moment.

Band of wargs was more numerous than he imagined and beasts themselves were much larger than he remembered. If a warg would get too close, it could tear him off horse's back without a problem. Terrible growls surely appeared in the nightmares of many, but Galathil all too vividly heard them around himself. He shot more then ten wargs – those were not very clever and easiest to kill. Two that remained were a challange that may cost him his life. And his horse was getting more and more tired.

Wargs kept themselves behind, in straight line with the horse and in this saddle it was hard for Galathil to turn so much to shoot them and he didn't want to risk turning himself in the saddle to ride backwards – he lacked practice to do such a thing.

Galathil greeted his teeth, clearly feeling Bargamo slowing down from mad gallop. The steed still managed to keep the pace for a long time, but this moment of weakness was exactly what warg were waiting for and beasts arched at them from the right side.

Knowing what was coming, at the same time Galathil let go of the bow and reached for a sword instead. Before he even managed to lead Bargamo, the horse stopped sharply and turned left avoiding being cought in warg's jaws and Galathil slashed the beast across the head. One wark wimpled away licking its wound, but there was still a second warg up close. Bargamo rised up to rear, defending itself from the second attacking warg, kicking furiously and Galathil had to cought a saddle to feel more stabile. And the warg let go for a moment after gaining several kicks in the head and Galathil turned the horse just in time when warg jumped to bite and he pierced its upper jaw with a sword.

Remembering that the other warg was still around, Galathil didn't linger for long and bid the horse to move and helping himself with impetus of the powerful move, he pulled the sword across warg's head, killing it on spot.

The other beast still kept a bit away, but close enough to still be a threat. It bled from the wide wound across head and thick liquid blinded it on one eye. Warg tried to lick it away, but fruitlessly and Galathil pursued to attack, using warg's blinded eye to his advantage.

Although tired, Bargamo remained in focus and danced around the warg, often predicting its move faster than Galathil. Oropher always said to trust the horse in this matter – it will always have keener eye and it will lead itself better, so Galathil allowed Bargamo to fool the warg. Until finally, the horse galloped sideways, letting Galathil strike the sword directly into warg's neck, deep enough to kill it with this single blow.

Galathil breathed heavily and he patted the horse that was gasping with a strain. He looked around at the small battlefield and he turned the steed back on the road towards Andram, letting it walk its own pace. Normally he would have dismounted and walk beside the horse, but he couldn't afford to do that in such dangerous territory.

Not cleaning the sword he sheeted it back in its place on back. His father would be indignated about this and Oropher would have killed him seeing how he was treating his preacious swords, but neither of them was here to say what they wanted and Galathil didn't have to listen to any of this, though as he imagined Galadhon's comments and Oropher's pretences in mind it made him smile a bit.

After the fight his hair were all messy, so he gathered them once more into tall ponytail. It was one of the things the elves could tell him apart from Celeborn – they were really much alike even for brothers, enough so they could be twins. Only upon closer look, one could notice that their eyes had different color and their faces were also different enough. But mainly, Celeborn preferred to have is hair loose or not tightly binded, while Galathil preferred to get his white-silver hair into ponytail.

Oh, Celeborn, what will happen to him? At least he will have Galadhon for support and they will both watch over Oropher. Galathil hoped his cousin was still well enough, but having Celeborn's words in mind, he knew better than hoping that Oropher will recover on his own. This time it won't end happily.

The horse easied its breath, but Galathil didn't push the steed to gallop and before they started to climb the hills, he decided to rest a bit more. Actually, it was not about him, but about the horse – Bargamo was still at his lowest and the possibility that they will survived another clash with wargs was highly unlikely. All the more that Bargamo in his temperament and independance would have refused to listen if Galathil would push him too hard.

He chose a secluded area covered by weeping willows, with a really small pond. It was well hidden and no one would have noticed them from far away and he hoped that nobody won't. But wargs were still able to sniff them up with ease and catch their trial once more. Galathil hoped they won't meet any of those beasts again.

He dismounted and took quivers and bag, then took off breastplace and saddle from the horse, so Bargamo could rest from carrying them. He thought the horse would trott away immediately, but instead it stared at him for a short while and shook its head to relax neck muscles. It stood peacefully as any other horse would and nothing indicated that he was a beast no one wanted to get close to. With ears perking around and calm and glittering eyes the horse was like any other, but Galathil knew better – even Oropher said that he didn't fully trusted this horse yet and he rarely took it anywhere.

Galathil sighted and briefly patted horse's neck though he knew it didn't like caresses all too much. Then he approached a small pond and kneeled near the edge to gather water in hands and drink a bit.

In his hurry he didn't even take a water skin from the city or anything to eat at all. He will have to find some berries or fruits if possible, maybe some nuts as he doubted there will be anything to hunt nearby.

When water was calm once more he stared at his reflection. Few strands of white-silver hair still fell on his forehead and arms, but he let go of trying to settle them down. Hilts of swords sticked out from his back and dark armor shone under moonlight mirroring it. He sighted to himsel0,f only then realising that pauldrons and chestplace already weighted upon him and wepons didn't make it any better.

'What I am even doing?' he said quietly to the water. 'Those were centuries since I left the city for something more than a hunt. I managed the wargs, but what if I will meet something more foul on my way? What I will do once I will reach Taur-im-Duinath?'

Melian send him there for a reason, but at a lone thought about this place hair bristeled on Galathil's neck. Taur-im-Duinath was not known well and it was barely described. Oropher told him once that he encountered those woods long, long time ago when Elwe gave order to scout southern lands. But his cousin turned back, not risking stepping into this forest.

Elders said that this place was corrupted and hostile. If there was no need, no one should set food in this forest. And Galathil rode there to do just that – with what purpose? He didn't know. He trusted his Queen blindly though he received no guides of what he should do once he will be there.

Willows lowered down and their long branches floated in the swamp like snakes. Galathil suspected the trees felt his doubts and miserable mood and at the same time he doubted that anything could be done to lift it up.

'I can't help it.' he said smiling briefly. 'The lone thought that I left my wife and daughter...for greater good, yes, but still-' he paused then. He didn't even know himself why he felt need to explain himself.

Galathil stared at the water, despite that the surface was a bit ruffled, stars were still clearly visible and shone like fireflies. Only then Galathil realised that the branches suspiciously moved in one direction and when he looked up he noticed from a bit afar a tall strawberry bushes. He laughed a bit.

'You see? I can't even find my own food.'

Willows remained silent. Those were not very talkative and Galathil didn't sense them so clearly as the trees in the woods of Doriath, but still they tried to help even a bit. And when branches started to form once more, this time it was a circle formed on the surface of the pond and when Galathil looked closer there was reflection of the star in the middle. The one he recognised well.

He turned eyes away from the water and looked up at the bright star on the eastern side. It was Vaqasta, star of victory. It was not often to notice it on the firmament and even when it was somewhere one had to look intently to find it as it was rare for the star to shine so brightly. They said Elwe saw it before the last battle during the war and that the star shone upon the elves who started March to the West so long ago. Should he take is as a sign? Or as a simple way of solace?

It was a self-pity. He stinked with it. Maybe he was not the choice was this travel, neither he was ready for it, but he was not born yesterday either and he still remembered how to take care of himself in the wild. The beginning of his journey was hard and it will be only harder, but it will be better as soon as he will get used to it.

He drunk a bit more of water and he got up from his knees. He quickly went to gather a jacket from the bag he brought with himself and then he went to the other side the pond to gather fruits the willows showed him before. There were quite many of them and if he will organize his meals well, those fruits will suffice till he will get to Taur-im-Duinath.

Galathil binded the jacket so nothing will fall off and then he went back where lied his equipment. He called the horse which cropped grass nearby, but hearing him the steed perked ears and snorted, but obeyed and came closer still chewing bits of grass. It was just as before – Bargamo stared at him completly unimpresed and Galathil patiently handled the steed, saddling it and attaching quivers and bags to it. And when everything was ready, he jumped on horse's back and lead the horse back on the path.

When Galathil was leaving gren area, he said his goodbyes to silent willows who answered almost shyly and with that Galathil and Bargamo were back on the road, climbing the hills of Andram. Those were not very steep ones and Galathil let the horse walk its own pace

He wondered if Faineth already knew of his leave. He hoped she knew that he didn't do that to run, to get away, it was...all he could do for them. Once he heard that Celeborn and their father would go and help the diseased, that Oropher came back sick and even in this moment he was struggling to survive...it made him realize how close they were to loose everything they knew and held dear. He couldn't let that happen. He was riding to fnd help outside Doriath and he won't come back with nothing. Melian send him south with a purpose and he will discover what was there that could help them.

Galathil stared at Taur-im-Duinath that was visible from the top of the Long Wall. It was but a stain of darkness, so different from Ossiriand that was so close – only river Gelion was between them and yet Galathil had impression that the forests want nothing to do with each other. Taur-im-Duinath set him with unease. Even birds didn't pass above this wood.

And within a day he was standing on the very edge of it.

It smelled blandly. As if nothing was here. But a thick mist rose between the old tall trees, with the first ground that belonged to them. Usually, animals could be seen walking amidst it, but here there was nothing – only shapes of trees were visible and nothing more. And there was a wind that didn't move mist at all. As if someone was breathing right at Galathil and something told him that this would be the only warning he will get before entering. So be it.

He bid the horse to walk and Bargamo snorted taking first short step and Galathil clearly felt steed's stiffness – the fact that he was nervous as well didn't help at all. They walked deeper into the forest and soon Galathil couldn't see the light leading to the way out. Mist closed around them, trapping them inside.

Then all of sudden a scream rose up. Loud and lancinating as if someone was martyred, followed by many other. Galathil paled dumbfolded, breath quickening and the only thing that held him together was a need to calm the horse – Bargamo stopped and his muscles trembled not yet springing to run, but close to it if Galathil will let his panic overwhelm him.

'Easy, easy.' he whispered, briefly caressing horse's nape with fingers.

He bid the horse to move and after short hesitation the steed moved forward. Their every step was followed by excruciating cries.

'What in the skies is that?' he asked himself looking around, but mostly focusing on the barely visible path ahead. He took a bow in hand ready for anything to come closer, but it was hard to focus or hear anything other but screams coming from all directions at him. Soon, he saw that there are things he can't protect himself from.

Bargamo jumped aside when thick roots rose from the ground to capture them. He barely held the horse together from galloping somewhere blindly and he stared with eyes wide as the roots started to form thick wall to block their way. Neither bow or sword will protect him from powerful nature. He didn't even try to initiate a greeting – trees around seemed as if they had no awareness, yet they were as much alive as those in Doriath.

'Alright, time for us.' Galathil said when ground started to shift beneath them and he lead the horse away from the path striding into impenetrable mist. At least, as they galloped deeper into the forest, the screams disappeared behind them. Now there was only silence surrounding them. In every meaning of this word.

In the woods of Doriath, Galathil never felt alone. During the day there were always birds chirping and singing around, branches fell and broke under hooves of animals, wind carried leaves far and wide, while trees, though delicately, always made their presence known. In here, he smelled and heard nothing, as if he lost those senses.

At one point as they went forth, Bargamo stopped and refused to go. The horse snorted and lifted head high in defiance, but Galathil clearly saw some shapes in the mist ahead. Maybe it was the way they should go?

Galathil shouldn't do so, but he dismounted and stared for a moment at the shapes he wanted to examine. He took a quiver from the saddle and attached it to the belt at his waist. Then he held a bow tightly in hand and arrow at a ready. He made few hesitant steps, knowing he can't even be sure about the ground beneath his feet.

This forest was foreign and hostile. Why would Melian send him to such place? There was nothing and no one with willing heart to help.

'Can't you hear me?! I said stop!'

A call reached him all of sudden and Galathil halted, briefly looking around, but there was absolutely no one around who could say this to him.

'Who is a hot-headed ram now?' a voice sounded behind him and Galathil turned to see Bargamo trotting to him.

'W-what did you say?' Galathil said weakly quite not believing that he was actually doing that and that what he thought about really happened. But the horse snorted as if impatient.

'Those vines have spikes, long as spears. Something drips from them.' Bargamo said in thought and then his ears perked at Galathil in interest. 'Hey, you actually understood me!'

Galathil stared at the horse mouth agape and eyes wide. Was it his imagination? A terrible joke? Or maybe a trap to make him think he lost his mind? From the things he saw, this forest was capable of anything and it was just the beginning.

'Yes, but-' he started, barely gathering thoughts from previous shock. 'But how can I understand you? Horses can't speak-'

'Don't be so one sided. It's hard to understand you elves as well.' Bargamo snorted, taking a good look around and shaking neck to get rid of a dust on his mane. 'I was mad when you took me from the city. And I would imagine us going anywhere but here.'

Galathil coughed a bit. That would explain why Bargamo behaved as he did during the first moments of their journey.

If he would ever say to someone that he was talking with a horse, he would be laughed at or asked if he was feeling alright. Yet, here he was – Bargamo was speaking clearly and understendably as if Galathil was speaking with another elf. He had never heard of anything like that, had it be a curse or a spell, even in the old tomes that were buried somewhere in the library in Menegroth.

'You didn't have to come with me. I would have taken...someone else.' he said and Bargamo muttered something before he spoke again.

'I followed you cause you are a cousin of this elf of mine.' Bargamo said. 'This old crank. May Nahar strike him with lightning!' he turned to Galathil. 'I was surprised it was you and not him who took this journey. Oropher is always first for such travels.'

At the lone mention of this, Galathil's mood dropped instantly. All that he pushed away from himself to focus on the travel came back to him instantly.

'He left the city so often.' Galathil sighted, worry and sadness he tried to keep away overwhelmed him again. 'Disease finally got him. His soldiers as well, so many more are falling apart.'

'Ah, shoot. That's why Hakon was so quiet when he came back.' Bargamo lowered ears in strange act that almost looked like worry. 'Than not a lightning, but may Nahar bless him with a song of his bells.' he sighted then. 'This disease you speak about...I saw quite many soldiers who don't even know they are sick. It's a matter of time before...'

'Before it will come to an end.' Galathil finished when Bargamo fell silent in the middle of the sentence.

'Yes. Exactly.' the horse said, then he looked straightly at Galathil. 'Melian has a power to influence many things and be understood by different creatures in this word. I understood her voice when she called to go to Taur-im-Duinath, but why would she do that? There is nothing here! Only danger and probably death.' the horse shook his huge head and his ears went back. 'I swear if that's a sick joke than I don't care! Queen or not, I will make known what I think of it!'

'Now, now. Let's not make such fast conclusions!' Galathil said immediately, but he almost smiled at the parallel of this situation. As far as he was concerced, it could be Oropher standing in front of him now. 'Besides, you won't make known anything if we won't walk out alive from this forest.'

'We will. I will make sure of that.' Bargamo said with striking confidence that was very known to Galathil. And while Bargamo looked around again, Galathil glanced at the tall horse curiously.

'You said that you get the meaning of the words spoke by Melian.' he said. 'But you can't understand her as well you understand me right now. Then how it's possible that we are able to talk to each other?'

'I would like to know that as well.' the horse said. 'But I'm not complaining. Better communication will be needed in the situation we are in right now.'

Then as if on command they both looked straight in the direction from where a loud roar came from and bushes and branches broke under the weight of running animal. Or whatever that was. And it seemed they both realized what it was at the same time.

'Damn it!' Galathil cursed, but Bargamo breathed in dibelief.

'Damn it? More like; for fuck's sake!' he said trotting closer to Galathil and turning his side to the elf. 'It's a werewolf! Climb on and we're out of here!'

As soon as Galathil jumped on the horse, Bargamo turned and took them from the small clearing in gallop. Despite the mist he was doing quite well, though he passed by some trees much too close for Galathil's liking who looked behind to see the shape of the werewolf behind them, but there was nothing there. Which didn't mean that the beast let go of hunting them.

'Tree!' Galathil called the last moment before they bumped into it and Galathil leaned down to not be taken off saddle by a thick branch.

'I can see nothing in here!' Bargamo complained not slowing down in his gallop. 'Where is the wolf?'

'Not behind us! But I think it's somewhere nearby!'

'Nahar's light!' Bargamo breathed when he stopped immediately before the huge rift in front of them and Galathil fell on his neck from the impetous of this manouver.

It looked as if someone brought a knife through the ground. As he looked left and right, this rift had no end. Galathil didn't know how deep it was, neither he wanted to know it.

'I'm going to jump through!' Bargamo stated jumping aside and making a large circle, but Galathil rose in protest.

'What?! Wait, you can't-!'

'Stop intruding or we will fall down!' Bargamo said rising head high and Galathil cursed once more under his breath and relaxed letting the horse gain needed speed.

He actually closed his eyes when Bargamo bounced powerfully and he didn't see them flying over the darkness beneath them. But when the horse landed heavily on the other side he breated out and opened eyes one more, looking around while Bargamo trotted for a moment and went to halt.

'That was close enough.' he snorted and then turned head a bit to look at Galathil. 'Admit it. You closed your eyes.'

'I did not!' Galathil rosed up immediately in protest, but he could feel his upper cheeks heating up. Faineth always said that she loved the way he blushed.

'Sure. So you saw that huge eye staring up at us from the bottom of the rift?'

'Now you're pulling my leg.' Galathil said though he would not be surprised if this was a truth.

'So you really closed your eyes!' Bargamo laughed and Galathil crossed arms on his chest. 'I will tell Oropher.'

'Don't be so clever! You will tell him nothing cause he won't understand you!' Galathil called immediately. 'Better let's go. Warewolf can jump after us.'

'I will find a way for him to know.' Bargamo said and Galathil had unhealthy impression that the horse was smirking. But he obediently moved to walk, though still cautiously enough.

Galathil had no idea in which part of the forest they were in, but only after a while he realized there was no mist in here as if it stayed on the other side of the rift, so he took a good look around.

Trunks around were dark, almost black, and those looked more like pillars in some hall than a living being of the woods. And trees rose unnaturaly tall – there were no branches on the lower levels of the tree and only the top was fully exposed. It made almost no light come through and the forest around was covered in darkness. Galathil couldn't even say if it was a day or night.

Trunks were also were thick and wide. Bargamo could easily gallop around the tree withough bending too much – this only illustrated how old this forest was. And how long those trees were isolated from anything good in this world.

'They say' Bargamo started. 'That Nahar used to gallop through Taur-im-Duinath when he didn't hunt foul beasts with Oromë.'

'And who is saying that?'

'Well...' Bargamo perked ears. 'Isca, Silivren... and Narqelion says that it's possible to find Nahar's paths if one is cautious enough.'

'You are talking now...about other horses?' Galathil felt need to precise that and Bargamo snorted.

'Who others? It's not that I can talk with any of you elves.'

Galathil fell in thought for a moment. It wouldn't ever come to him that horses spoke to each other about those matters. Or maybe not spoke, but at least they were able to somehow pass such information between themselves. It was truly something that even those ancient wouldn't have thought about. Moreover, Bargamo was aware who Nahar was and he mentioned Oromë on his own – how could he possible know it?

'So, who is Nahar to you exactly?' he asked as he looked around. There was chirping around, but he suspected it was no bird that was doing this sound, however, it didn't sound hostile either.

'He is our guider, you can say. A protector.' Bargamo said as he jumped down a small scarp. 'We learned from him allegiance, fierceness and own worth, but not blind loyalty and we will defend ourselves when someone comes to us with foul intentions. All in all, our virtues made us, rochi, one of the greatest allies of the elves and we intend to hold on to it as long as we can.' he paused for a moment and then continued. 'When we pass away from this world we hear Nahar's bells and then we follow a golden trial we see in front of us.'

Galathil thought about it for a moment. Those elves who passed away were called by Námo and followed him to the Halls where they healed, contemplated their past choices and only when they were ready, Lord Mandos allowed them step into ever-green land of Valinor. Did it mean that horses ended up in Eldamar as well?

'Hey, look. A moth.' Bargamo called stopping near a huge trunk and Galathil stared at it as well, taken from his musings. The horse was right – there was clear shapre of an animal that landed on a tree and hairy legs and feelers sticked out from beneath the folded wings. And the moth was unnaturaly large, easily larger that him and Bargamo all together.

'Maybe it's wiser to not wake it up.' Galathil said and at the same moment a moth moved its wings and unsticked legs from the tree to turn head to them. Cute feelers jutted out from head, but as soon as it opened a mouth, much wider than a moth should be able to, it exposed a rows of sharp, deadly teeth.

Galathil gasped and Bargamo jumped away trotting forward, leaving a moth behind and, for their luck, moth has not decided to follow them. But their peace didn't last for long.

'Why is everything like this in here?' Bargamo snorted and before Galathil managed to answer, a weird sound reached them that bordered on howl, but seemed more like singing. It was a weird mix of high tones like a choir, but vibe beneath it was dreadful and send shivers down the spine.

'That's enough of our peaceful walk.' Galathil said. 'We have to run!'

Without a single word Bargamo springed to gallop, but a creature tracked them all too easily and outrun them as well.

Bargamo stopped sharply before the beast that landed in front of them, folding wings on its back. It was the same height as the horse, but much more powerful. It seemed like a cougar, but it's fur was bright orange, so unfitting among this dark forest, and the creature's hair glittered as if it was sprinkled with gold. Wings were thin and looked as if they were taken from a dragonfly, but large fangs in beast's muzze immediately presented that they had a predator in front of them.

Not thinking much Galathil stringed an arrow and loosened it, striking the creature in shoulder. As it howled with its choir voice, Bargamo springed to run as fast as he could. For a while they heard behind a beast crying over, the voice echoing in the forest, but it didn't seem to follow them.

And when they thought they were safe once more, roots beneath Bargamo's hooves rose from the ground. The horse stumbled heavily, making Galathil almost fell off saddle and it didn't help them from saving themselves from this fall.

They fell down the steep scarp into the crater. Galathil gritted his teeth as his leg was painfully pinned down by horse's body and the speed of their fall made them flip over few times making Galathil fall off from the saddle by this force.

They reached the bottom of the crater and Galathil withh all the impetous fell down on ground rugged with rocks. Bargamo was not getting up and Galathil managed to briefly look around before he lost his conciousness, leaving both of them to the mercy of the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise characters? Why, yes, it's right in the tags :)  
> Hope you to enjoy the chapter!


	3. First of the firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galathil and Bargamo discover that there is much more in Taur-im-Duinath than they expected or even imagined.

Galathil's head bursted with aggravating pain. He immediately closed his eyes upon opening them as if even seeing through them caused him this pain. He forced himself to get up on his elbows and his leg immediately let him know that something was wrong with too, chest and arms weighted up unpleasantly almost preventing him from moving. He was all bruised and he suspected that because of the armor he suffered the fall in the crater even worse.

Quiet snort made him recover a bit quicker and gritting teeth at every scamp and pain he scrambled from the ground to check on his companion.

Bargamo was still lying down with eyes half-closed and ears folded delicately back. He seemed spiritless, almost apathetic, but when the horse heard Galathil get up, he looked up at the elf.

'I broke my leg.'

Galathil plugged up as if he was striked with a mace in stomach. This single sentence was something he didn't expect to hear. He didn't want to hear it, as if it couldn't even happen.

'No...maybe, maybe it's not that bad.' Galathil managed to say as he looked all over the horse and he immediately noticed unnaturaly outscretched hind leg, swollen near hindfoot. Surely upon moving a hoof would hung unnaturaly loose as if nothing was stabilizing it.

Roots must have somehow grabbed horse's leg in full gallop and it ended tragically. The fall surely made it only worse and Bargamo was surely bruised as well, weighted down with a saddle and all the equipment.

'It is bad. I can't get up.' Bargamo said and he snorted again. 'This travel ends for me much quicker than I would have guessed.'

'Don't say as if it was the end.' Galathil said, gritting teeth at his own pain, but he managed to get to the horse and detach breastplace and saddle to take it off horse's back.

'But it is, at least for me. What will you do? Carry me?' Bargamo snorted, completly resigned. 'Take your stuff and go. Maybe put me out of my misery so I won't die for too long in here.'

'I won't leave you!' Galathil said throwing away heavy saddle and breastplace. Horse's skin was rubbed here and there and wet from sweat. As he suspected, the horse gained a lot of bruises though none was visible. 'We are able to heal wounds and leg fractures, you surely saw yourself not once.'

'Yes, in a warm stable with those elves who know how to do it. And with equipment that can held a horse up.' Bargamo said. 'Besides, look around.'

As he was bid to do, Galathil looked up and then all around. They were no longer in a crater where they landed painfully before – once more trees rose around them, so hostile and vicious. It was because of them that it ended like this. Those were the trees that rose against them after the fight with a cougar.

'Something got us out from the crater. I can only imagine why it did that and what for.' Bargamo conitued. 'It's better for you to go.'

Before Galathil managed to say something more, panting noise came from around and short growls echoed in the woods. Whatever it was, it was getting closer with each passing moment.

'Waste no time! You have to go!' the horse called shifting a bit from uncomfortable position. 'Maybe you will be faster than this thing!'

'I highly doubt it.' Galathil said taking bow in hand, surprising even himself with sterness in his voice. He had no chance to run on his own, literaly everything on four legs will be faster then him. 'I very much prefer to take down whatever is coming.'

'Don't be stupid!' Bargamo snorted, but Galathil interrupted.

'More faith, my friend. I may not be as good archer and warrior as Oropher, but I can stand my ground.'

'You managed wargs pretty well, that's true.' if only the horse would have better mimic, Galathil would have said that Bargamo smiled a bit. 'Though not without my help.'

'I know, stop bragging around about it.' Galathil said staring in direction from where he heard noises coming. 'It will only boost your ego.'

He stringed an arrow and waited for anything to come forth. Whatever it was, a powerful shot will wound it enough so it will let go – just as the dangerous cougar before. It's the best to aim in neck or stomach, his father always used to say, but if you can't see your oponent – shoot in the first part of the body that will become visible.

Galathil stared intently as any creature will come forth from behind any tree, ready anytime to let go an arrow. Anything that will walk out of the shadows will have to face him in fight. Without Bargamo he will die in this forest anyway, so he could as well die now like a soldier.

A shape appeared and Galathil loosened his grasp on the arrow, but still have not let it go.

'Don't shoot!'

At this sudden call Galathil stopped himself literally a moment before he let go his arrow. He still held it on string and stared at the shape that came into view.

A tall, hairy beast walked into his view on two legs with front paws rised up. It was massive, muscles were easily visible all over its body and long legs could easily outrun a warg, horse as well. It didn't manage to hold up like it for long and soon lowered itself on all fours, taking few more hesitant steps closer to Galathil and Bargamo.

'Don't shoot.' the beast repeated and Galathil felt his heart speeding over, pounding hard in his chest and his breath quickened.

He stared at the werewolf that was covered in ash-colored hair, all ruffled. As Galathil stared closer, old scars became visible, on a shoulder, on back, on chest. When werewolf spoke, long fangs glashed inside its muzzle and golden eyes leaped off in dark environment. And when the beast continued, fangs blazed once more.

'I called to you before, but you run away, deeper into the forest. It was not wise, though I can hardly blame you for doing so. You probably didn't understand me.'

Galathil couldn't believe that werewolf's voice was so...smooth, almost vibrant. He would have never imagined it like that, not speaking that he never imagined actually speaking to a werewolf.

'You were the one that run after us?' Bargamo asked and Galathil lowered bow a bit and werewolf took it as a sign to feel more secure and made few more steps towards them.

'I was the one. But even I lost your trial in the mists.' he said. 'Minai immediately sensed your presence in the forest. Send me and few others to find you and bring you in.'

'Why do you care about us?' Galathil asked taking arrow off the string, not knowing if what he did was wise. Images of foul werewolves, with muzzles dripping with blood and foam, came to him at once and yet, here he was, speaking to one of them in peace.

'I can't blame you that you expect the worst from me. I got used to it.' Werewolf said. 'But you have little choice now as it goes to allies. Besides, I already helped you.'

'By leaving us in this damn forest well on sight?' Bargamo snorted, ears went back immediately. 'Thanks for that!'

'I left you to get provisional wagon.' Werewolf said pulling towards himself something what proved to be tightly binded planks and rough boards creating a platform. 'And you were under care of a Loner.'

'That's too much to say. They lured spiders to me, so I stayed around.'

When a quite bored voice said it, Galathil turned around to see who was it speaking now. He noticed and sensed no one around!

This same huge moth from before unsticked few legs from a tree and turned to look at them. As it continued, rows of teeth became all too well visible.

'It's you!' Galathil said and a moth stared straight at him with large black eyes.

'Yes, it's me.' the moth said, waving its hairy legs dismissevely. 'Quit staring like that. You disturbed me before enough when I wanted to rest.'

'That was a deal.' Werewolf shrugged arms. 'They lure spiders, you don't let the spiders eat them.'

'You dealed with our lives!' Bargamo accused immediately shifting once more, but then snorted in pain, his ears layed down back even more.

'That's how life is in this forest. You know where to go and where to not go. And your life depends on who you know.' he said. 'Nerain and Serai were in other part of the forest, Aife as well. He was my only choice.' he tilted head towards the moth. 'Meet then The Lone Behemoth, shorter Loner.'

'Shorter name which I don't like at all.' the moth spat out then turned back and started to walk up the tree, not saying even a word of goodbye.

'A bit gloomy type.' Galathil said as he stared for a moment after the moth, but then he turned back to the werewolf who pulled the platform closer.

'He is, so it's better to not strain his patience.' he said. 'We must get you both to the Burrow. You will rest there, Minai will make sure of that.'

'Who is Minai?' Galathil asked and werewolf snuffled quietly.

'Our carer, your ally. My support.' he said and shook his head. 'Enough talk. The sooner we go, the better. And I am sure you had a reason for coming here. No one with a bit of wit crossed the verge of this forest.' he looked at Bargamo who also watched him suspiciously and Galathil could easily say that the horse was still irritated. 'Since you broke your leg, I will help you get on the platform, then I will pull you through the forest. Fortunately, the Burrow is not far.'

'Fine.' Bargamo said. 'Which does not mean I trust you. There is something about you I don't like.'

'Bargamo! We should show some...gratefulness.' Galathil said though a lone thought to be grateful about something that werewolf had done seemed absurd not that long ago.

'Everything about me is what repels others.' the beast said, though with much more calmness than Galathil would expect. 'I am a werewolf, after all.'

'Are you, though?' Bargamo said more than asked and Galathil immediately noticed how the werewolf turned away his eyes.

'We should get going. I will rise you up.' he said as he got closer to the horse while Galathil looked around for the saddle and brestplace. He noticed those a bit away and he went to gather his bag with clothes and quivers that remained.

He heard those two behind struggle, but he could do little to help them out. Probably he wouldn't be of any use and only made things more complicated, so he waited until they were done.

Even powerful werewolf had problems to help out the horse. He didn't rise Bargamo, instead he was helping him to get up and as Bargamo scrabled ungracefully, werewolf supported his broken leg and assisted so the horse won't loose balance and fell heavily to the ground which could end up tragically with another broken leg.

Only when Bargamo was on the platform he leaned forward heavily and, as delicately as he could, he lowered himself down on the ground to not overstrain his wounded leg. Werewolf tried to catch him so he won't fall on the wooden planks painfully, and he managed it more or less, but Bargamo still breathed heavily through nostrils which indicated that he felt as much pain as anger and his ears folded back only assured Galathil in this.

'We are ready to go.' Werewolf stated, breathing heavily than usual from the strain.

'Thank you. I will try to protect us from...from what I can.' Galathil said and werewolf nodded huge head rising for a moment on both legs ans stretching himself out. And Galathil couldn't prevent himself from staring at the huge beast before him and he swallowed hard. If the werewolf will decide to attack, he will be dead within a moment.

'We should be relatively safe on this side of the crater.' he said as he lowered himself on all fours. 'But still we should have our eyes open and remain vigilant.'

Galathil nodded and he turned to Bargamo to exchange few words with him, while their new friend slowly gathered himself to grab the thick rope and start pulling the wooden platform. And the horse was clearly comfortless, not only because of his leg, but about all the situation.

'I don't see a reason to drag me with you two.' Bargamo said, his ears turned backwards. 'A horse with a broken leg is a dead horse.'

'Don't be so dramatic.' Galathil said, though he couldn't deny that it was truly rare for someone to decide to safe a horse with such injury. Only few times he heard that such horses were tried to be safed and he never heard that it was succesful.

'I am not dramatic. I just saw such injuries on others. And each time I had to say goodbye to them.'

Galathil didn't really know what to say to him. It was still so hard to him to change his way of thinking – that horses could suffer such things as loss, that they can form stories and own legends. They were just like elves with all of this.

Before he gathered words to answer, the werewolf moved the platform on the forest moss and soon he started to pull it more smoothly. Baragamo was not at ease and comfortable with this at all, and it only showed in stretched nostrils and ears lied tightly back on head.

And Galathil followed them keeping himself behind to make sure nothing was following them. He kept arrow on a string, ever ready to realease it, but as for now there was nothing around that could be a danger for them.

Faineth, my love, I hope you are in health back there in Doriath, I am so sorry I left you. But I did it for you and Nimloth, for everyone. I hope that everything is still fine out there. He couldn't help, but allow those thought to cross his mind, then he scolded himself for this. Nothing was right – his father, his brother would sacrifice their own health, even their own life for well-being of others. Oropher already payed the price for taking up his duty, by now he could succumb fully to this disease. Nothing was right and in this cursed forest he didn't even know how much time had passed since he left Doriath.

'I've been wondering.' Bargamo said then. 'Why Oropher never takes me for his duty? Always those trainings and trainings, and some minor patrols.'

Galathil looked down on a horse and thought about the answer. He remembered well Oropher cursing not once about the bahaviour that Bargamo presented – in the past he always got angry that once he thought he had something trained with Bargamo, and then all of sudden there was a huge step backwards.

'You know, you have your temper. And you like to have things your own way, I felt it on myself.' Galathil said, finally finding right words.

'I do, I admit. But my temper is my strength not my flaw.' he said, then he almost looked as if he grimaced. 'Hakon says to give it time, but Narqelion says that it's because I'm stupid.'

'Did he really said it?'

'He did and I bit him for it. Hard.' Bargamo said and Galathil shook his head a bit. Narqelion was a stallion that belonged to Faron and he remembered that Oropher always said that those two horses hated each other.

'You know, it's hard enough for Oropher to lead his soldiers, think about array, observe the terrain and prepare for a possible fight and whatever more he is doing. Among all of this he can't afford to think what may come to your head.' Galathil finally said. 'Maybe you want to help, but your self-made decisions are not making anything easier.'

Bargamo fell in silence and Galathil clearly saw that there was something processing in his mind and his ears perked a bit around.

Werewolf pulled the wagon towards the wall of vines that rised up the rocks that were nearby. Galathil didn't think they were lost and he was right – the vines were hiding a clear forest path which they followed within a moment.

A sound of falling waterfall was unmistakable. It was loud and roaring, and Galathil was surprised that he didn't hear it earlier in the forest, but as he later found out, it was something that was hidden for a reason.

A place that came into view was like an oasis in the middle of a desert. The area was covered by huge rock on the other side and from there the wide waterfall fell down to the stream. It crossed the place in arches like a long snake and ended in a round, deep pond that surely had a way out underground. From the other side the place was covered tightly by trees, but those ones didn't seem so hostile as the ones in the forest he crossed not that long ago. Those trees here had long branches all over and were covered with leaves of different colors – some had green ones, others red or orange, while another tree had them colorful as it should have been during Autumn. It seemed that in Taur-im-Duinath everyone truly lived as they wished.

He didn't have a chance to look around more clearly when a call made him focus.

'Minai! Minai! They are here!' a sweet voice sounded nearby and tall grass moved around showing a clear trial and that something was moving towards them. Something relatively small.

'Shut up, Aife!' the werewolf called out immediately, panting from the strain and still pulling the platform closer to the pond. 'And leave them alone, they are tired!'

'Don't tell me to shut up!' the sweet voice became more stern and in a moment from the grass hopped up a creature similar to the fox and it landed on a large rock near Galathil who stopped and looked closely.

What immediately came into view was that the fox had two puffy tails with black endings, while all the creature was red in color. But what intensity was in this red – Galathil suspected that a coat ornamented with this fur would have been worth a fortune.

And directly at him stared clever blue eyes and there was something that could be taken as smile on a creature's muzzle. Long whiskers sticked from everywhere and stingy, long fangs overgrown and reached below bottom lip.

'An elf! A real elf!' the fox said as he looked up at Galathil with something that could be taken as a mix of disbelief and excitement, but also some kind of strange adoration.

'It's nice to...meet you? I am Galathil.' he said and he fox smiled, it even seemed that with a bit of fondness, but then he shook it off.

'Forgive me for staring like this, but it's incredible to finally meet one of you!' he said and bowed delicately small head. 'The pleasure is all mine.' he said strangely serious, then he looked at the Werewolf who just stopped pulling the platform and managed to got Bargamo as close to the pond as possible. 'What happened to your friend?'

'And what it seem like to you?' Bargamo snorted angrily while the fox jumped down from the rock and trotted closer to him.

'Bargamo broken his leg.' Galathil said as he knew well that the horse in his foul mood will snap at everyone around.

'Oh, no! That's horrible!' the fox gasped taken over by the fate of Bargamo as if he had not sensed at all the wave of anger. 'Those were the trees, am I right? They won't suffer anyone to pass by their ground!'

'We meant no harm and they attacked with no reason.' Galathil said glancing from the werewolf to thefox. 'I didn't even try to reach out to them, it would be of no use. Why they are like this? So hostile and unforgiving?'

'They are not as the ones you are used to in Doriath.' the Werewolf said as he leaned down over the stream to drink some fresh water. 'In ancient times, Taur-im-Duinath was crossed through by strange wonders, some even remained here and made this forest their home. Warm air from southern deserts of Harad shaped those woods for centuries. Later on, in earlier times, beasts of the enemy bred here, killing off everything they saw fit.' he splashed a bit of water on himself to cool strained body. 'Trees drunk too much blood to grow as they should. With no one to teach them to sing or speak, they silenced till the days will end. And they know better then allow anyone to pass below their branches.'

Galathil listened intently and he had to admit that it made sense. The March to Blessed Realm in the West had entirely different route and elves passed by Taur-im-Duinath long way to the north. Trees in this forest probably never felt a touch of elf on their bark, neither they were bid to wake up and speak in soft shivers of leaves. Galathil knew it was probably too late for that.

Then he frowned a bit and he looked at the werewolf suspiciously.

'How do you know that we travel from Doriath?' he asked as he never mentioned before that he and Bargamo came from the northern Kingdom.

The werewolf was silent and he congealed like a statue with huge paws in the water and he clearly thought what he should say. But before he managed to formulate his answer it was once more a fox who spoke.

'I have never been in Doriath, in none of your forests. For which I am more than glad.' he said and Galathil blinked a bit surprised.

'You don't think you would have liked it there?'

This time it was the fox who blinked a bit surprised as he looked up at Galathil, but then a smile came back at his muzzle.

'Nothing of that sort.' he said as he jumped once more on a rock that stood nearby and he turned towards Galathil once more. 'I haven't introduced myself, yet. I am Aife.' he said proudly. 'I am the Voice.'

'The Voice?' Galathil repeated not understanding while the fox seemed confident that he should know what it meant.

'I am not surprised you didn't hear of me. None of you truly know about me.' Aife said as he sat down on the rock. 'Yet, here I am, because you need me.' then he paused for a moment. 'But I am not sure you want to hear of it.'

'I do, please, continue.'

'I don't know if you want.' Bargamo said then. 'I can smell grief from up here.'

'It is maimed in grief.' Aife admitted, but after a moment of considering Galathil nodded.

'I still want to know.'

'No, you don't.' Werewolf said and he straightened up, falshing golden eyes at them and he fixed them on Aife. 'Bring up leaves of peppermint. I am sure Minai will need them to heal the leg.'

'Yes! Peppermint!' the fox called revealing in a smile short, sharp teeth. 'You are right, we will need it!'

In a moment he was gone, tall grass once more moved a bit in clear trail, but after a moment there was no way to know where the fox went.

Galathil went closer to Bargamo and sat beside him while the werewolf busted around here and there. Its fur was really dark in the shadows that lingered in those woods, but not so long that it reached the ground.

'I can make some bandgaes to soften your pain.' Galathil proposed as he looked at the horse, but Bargamo snorted quietly. He was still in the same apathetic state as Galathil saw him when he regained conciousness near the crater.

'If I'm not moving too much it's alright.' he said, then he opened his eyes to look at him. 'I don't know how much time has passed. And we still don't know why Melian send us here.'

'I was thinking of it too.' Galathil admitted. 'But one thing is clear. We are definately short in time.'

'Indeed.' the horse as if sighted. 'This forest is one of the kind. Maybe there are herbs here able to fight off the disease in Doriath.'

'If there are any, then we still don't know which one and how it even looks like.' Galathil said bitterly and he took a bit of soil in his hands. 'Maybe we should have gone to Falas after all-'

He barely managed to finish it off when a water from the pond rose up all of sudden like a wave during storm. Bargamo perked ears up immediately and Galathil stared at what was happening, despite himself leaning back a bit and reaching for his sword to protect himself.

Water twisted and some of it fell back to the pond, but a clear shape remained though not formed in blood and flesh as it should, but arms and shoulders were visible, hands, neck and head as well.

'You called to me, but I didn't hear it!' the voice rised from the water, and all Galathil could do was to stare wide eyes at the phenomenon in front of him. 'Gwenniel! My dear Toril, I am so sorry!'

It almost pained Galathil to listen to this voice. It was loud and crossed mind like thousand arrows, like bolts of sudden storm and roar of waves. Bargamo was restless as well, with ears directed back he breathed heavily, body rising clearly in every breath.

'But now I know. I know, I heard your voice!'

The shape turned though it had no legs, but Galathil could see shoulders and arms turn and soon enough he saw the face. Waters slided down the shape in gleaming colour that only water can have, line of lips was formed well, nose and ears as well, but eyes were made only as delicate holes. But to Galathil it was still hard to be at ease with this voice. It was pure and naked in emotions like eruption, almost causing headache.

The shape looked straightly at them. Though it had no clear eyes, Galathil knew it was looking at him and Bargamo.

'Your children. They came all the way here.' the water said, and as strange as it looked like it got out of the pond, and touched the ground with newly formed feet.

It walked out of the pond completly, leaving the water behind, and before Galathil realised there was a true elf standing in front of him, in blood and flesh, as it should be. By body it could be easily seen that it was an elleth standing in front of him – arms were wider than most elleth had, hips and waist were not as slender as well. Breasts were uneven, but very full, if not to say large. It was hard to describe eyes as its colour changed every moment, but at least white hair remained it the same colour, white as snow, but those were very shortly cut, something unusual, since elleths always wore their hair very long.

'Forgive me, I almost forgot you are not meant to see us like this.' the elleth said and Galathil with ease realised that her voice was not as sharp as it was moments ago. But it was not a voice that could be clearly taken as elleth's one – it was very deep like undergroud waterfalls, yet it was almost sweet and ringed with bells, so it could not be fully ellon's one either.

'Who-who are you?' Galathil managed to say still holding hand on his sword while the elf stood before him naked and beautiful in imperfection.

'I serve Yavanna, the loving Valie. Or Ivon, how you call her in Doriath.' the elf said. 'I am kin to your Queen Melian. How I loved to watch nightingales follow her steps in Gardens of Lorien! How delighted I was when she tought them to sing here in Beleriand!'

Galathil's heart pounded hard and his eyes were still wide as he watched the elf before him. Though not, it was not an elf standing before him.

'I am Minai, eyes and heart of my Lady in this land. I believe you call us the Maiar and I am one of them.'

Eyes of the Maia changed once more and to Galathil it was almost repelling. He let go of his sword and just sat there still staring at the great spirit before him.

'But how...?' he just managed to ask while Maia got closer to them.

'Many powerful spirits binded themselves to this land. Melian was only one of them.' Minai said a she kneeled near Bargamo and cought his huge head. Only then Galathil could see that long ago the horse calmed down from this stress and he was at peace. 'But Melian was one of the few who took a single form.'

Minai whispered that sounded like something between a soft wind and rustling leaves. Bargamo fell asleep and the Maia put down his huge grey head on the ground. Galathil watched her get up, only then seeing that Minai's body was of weird structure, not transparent and not made of water, yet it was unnatural.

'I know my presence is hard.' Minai said with delicate smile, but it was a good smile full of fondness. 'I will make it easier for you.'

Her shape shifted again and now before Galathil stood an ellon, tall, but not very broad shouldered with chestnut har curling everywhere around his face. As Minai turned to him, Galathil could see beautiful green eyes, like fresh apples. And he was no longer naked, but fressed in simple outfit of a hunter.

'I know why Melian send you here. I heard it, though only now. How I wished I payed attention earlier.' Maia said it with great sadness, but his voice was now much more what Galathil was used to. 'It's the Dark Lord who formed those clouds of foulness and disease. There is no denying that its because of him that Doriath is suffering.'

'Can it be helped?' Galathil asked as he shifted and got closer to the Maia, now feeling no fear and only hope that this powerful being could do something so he won't come back home with empty hands. 'What can I do to stop it?'

'Fear not, my brave elf.' Minai said softly and his voice was full of calm and strange confidence. He got a bit of soil in his hands and put it on Bargamo's broken leg, getting more of it until it formed a glued layer. 'It all can be helped. But you won't manage to do this alone.'

Just in this moment from between the trees on the sand jumped out a huge wolvish like creature with long legs and mane only on the top of its neck. Claws digged deep into the ground and two tails swooshed behind it gleaming with orange as if it was bright fire.

'Minai, I got the leaves!'

'Aife! As always reliable and on time!' Maia said as he turned to the creature that now got closer and got the leaves from its mane while Galathil stared at the beast.

'Aife? It's you?' he managed to breathe out staring up and down at the wolf before him that seemed more like an overgrown warg.

'It is me, indeed.' he said once more gleaming with fangs as he spoke. 'When I am in need I have to move fast. I take on this form or shape as a bird to get there as soon as I can.'

'You are also a Maia?'

'Aife was made of dreams and hopes of your kind. You are blessed with powerfull will to shape your wishes to life and Father allowed it to happen. But since he was made of wishes, Aife has freedom to walk as he wants, binded by nothing though it is not the same as my freedom.' Minai said bandaging Bargamo's leg with peppermint leaves. 'He is very attached to your kind.'

Galathil noticed that Aife was looking at him and it could be said that he was smiling. His eyes were warm and just as Galathil noticed before, fondess was there as well.

'What of you?' he asked, looking at Minai. 'Why you never decided to take a form like Melian?'

'I never felt the need to.' he answered. 'You saw me before and it was not even a part of the real me. Eyes and ears of the elves are not meant to see the Ainur like this. Melian is wonderfully in love. It is natural that she wanted to join her beloved Elwe.' he paused for a moment. 'I never knew how she managed to decide how she looked like. I am not able to see a single me each time I think about it. I am not like an ellon, neither like an elleth. I have curls and waves at the same time, my eyes are like a rainbow. There is not a single me.'

Galathil fell in thought. He never thought about it, he never imagined that his strong, powerful Queen could be like an ocean that Minai manifested upon their first meeting. It was something hard to imagine and it never crossed his mind. What were the Ainur? How they even looked like in their purest form?

Before Galathil realised, Aife shifted his form and once more he was a small fox. He climbed closer and lied on Galathil's laps completly at peace and he didn't mind that Aife was so close.

'How it's possible that I understand every creature around?' Galathil said as he briefly caressed Aife's fur, wonderfully delicate in touch. 'First Bargamo and then Loner, werewolf, Aife...?'

'It's because of Minai!'

'I weaved a spell around those woods.' the Maia said. 'Those who wish can embrace it and speak to others without fear of being misunderstood. Some refused this gift and remained as they are, while others accepted. But even less made the Burrow their home. They are free to remain here. It's a safe place for everyone, under my protection.'

If it was the magic of the Maia then no wonder that it had such powerful effect and reached so far. And that he and Bargamo were affected by it.

Just then, Galathil realised that he didn't see the werewolf anywhere for quite a time. He looked around until finally he noticed the beast laying near the rocks and dark fur almost blended him into environment. With closed eyes he was almost unseen.

'It's best to not bother him too much.' Aife said when he followed Galathil's eyes. 'He is a bit bitter.'

'Bitter? That's a fancy name for being a pathetic lump of fur!'

Someone called and Galathil turned to the entrance to the Burrow to see two horses trotting into the clearing. One was chestnut and the other buckskin, more like beige. They laughed like hyenas and threw their heads and Galathil clearly recognised that those two were mares, with sharp clear voices.

Werewolf growled and even from where he was this sound was clearly heard. But the horses didn't care the slightest about the threat and walked towards them with tails rised high and heads carried proudly.

'An elf! I have never seen one before!' chestnut mare said, but unlike in Aife there was only curiosity in her voice.

'Pleased to meet you.' he said. 'I am Galathil.'

'Yes, a pleasure indeed!' the horse said looking a bit down to take a good look at him then she rised her head again. 'I am Nerain.'

'And I am Serai.' the bucking buckskin mare said the her ears perked. 'Tell me, Galathil. Those are not your swords, are they?'

Galathil frowned a bit. How can everything be so known in this forest?

'They belong to my cousin.' he said. 'How can you know this?'

'We know, because we see!' Nerain said and her eyes brightened up like snake ones. Serai had her own just the same and it put Galathil in unease.

'You are not a warrior and yet you came here!' Serai as if smirked. 'If you truly want to die, then it would be easier to hung yourself on a rope.'

Before Galathil managed to say something back, werewolf was near him flashing fangs in a growl and golden eyes stared at bold horses. In turn though, two mares growled as well, their muzzles opened, completly unnaturaly and too wide for a typical horse. Rows of short, sharp fangs became visible immediately.

'How protective!' Serai said. 'Claws and fangs after your own kind?'

Galathil almost forced himself to look away from the two horses and glanced back at the werewolf. Could they really mean those words? He didn't understand-

'Oh, he didn't tell you?' Nerain laughed again. 'No wonder, once so proud to be the first that he fell in his arrogance. Even his own kin forgot about him.'

'He is Imin.' Serai continued. 'The first of the three Elf-fathers who awoke at the Waters. His clan, the Firsts, most beloved by Manwe. Yet, here he is, mouldering in this dark forest.'

'Can you even remember your fair hair, like dragon's breath?' Nerain mocked further. 'Not even darkness could deem this brightness.'

'Nerain, Serai. If you are not here to help then leave.' Minai said with sudden sterness, quickly and easily ending this conflict.

Horses came back to previous form and once more looked more natural. Eyes also darkened as if they were normal animals. But Galathil still stared at the werewolf who didn't even look at him back, but stepped aside, once more closer to the rocks where he was almost invisible.

'Forgive us.' Serai said, her ears perked back, but then she noticed a colorful frog than jumped in the grass. She trotted quickly and cought it, swallowing with no second thought.

'We want to help and we will.' Nerain backed up and snorted. 'Just tell us what to do.'

Of course Galathil knew who was Imin. One of the three Elf-father, the first who awoke at Cuivienen. After him came Tata and then Enel. As they travelled together they came across elves who awok after them, near the Waters. Each time they encountered such group, one of them took them under protection. Imin, hoping to encounter the largest group refused to claim any other they came across, until finally they met the last group, the least numerous, and they became the elves of Imin.

It was said that Imin was proud and even arrogant. He believed respect belonged to him as he as the First. There were many stories about it that became legends since so long time had passed and no one written down this history.

No one knew what happened to the three Elf-fathers. It was said that Tata and Enel remained in the East with some of their people, while the rest followed Finwe and Elwe to the West after Orome called for them. However, Minyar, later called the Vanyar, all followed Orome to the West and none of them stayed behind. And yet, Imin was here. Their leader. Their father.

'As soon as Bargamo will get better, we will start up with the plan.' Minai said as he got up and turned to all of them with strange concern. Galathil forced himself to take his eyes away from Imin and looked at the Maia. 'We have to track down Bachlang.'

Galathil easily saw that they all gloomed, Aife's hair even bristled on his neck, while two mares shook their huge heads in thought.

'Last time he was seen he crossed deserts of Harad.' Nerain said and before anyone other managed to say anything Galathil rose up in question.

'Why we need him if you are all so against it?' he said. 'Maybe if he is that hard to find, we can figure out something else.'

'He won't be that hard to find.' Serai said. 'But finding him will be dangerous.'

'Bachlang is of my kin.' Minai said. 'He is one of the Spirits of Fire, once serving Manwe. He refused to hear the call of Melkor, but broke from his service to Manwe. He came to this land searching for his own way. He is a Lord to himself and he follows no one.'

Galathil immediately thought about Amdir. His older cousin was a wild, free spirit. He as well had his own ways and listened to no one.

'But he was also a guest of Nienna in Eldamar.' Minai said as he got closer to the pond. 'From her, Bachlang learned to dim down his fire and use it so he can care for other beings and pity them. Ash fertilize the soil.' he turned to face them again. 'We need ash made of his flames. But he won't give it to us on his own will and taking it from him may cost us our lives.'

Galathil looked around at those who were gathered and even Imin was standing now close with well visible golden eyes.

Faineth, my love. If saving you and Nimloth will mean taking down the Maia, I will do it. And I will come back to you. I promised that I will come back and I never break my promises.


End file.
